Scars
by HornLove
Summary: Emily looks at what she's become... Oneshot.


She can look in the foggy mirror every day after her steaming shower and never feel beautiful again. Though her skin was still an even tone of brown and gleamed through the dampness of the air; though her hair was dark as onyx and captured many eyes into it's luster, she will never, ever see herself as pretty.

She has accepted her scars, long ago. But she fails to realize the symbolization of them; she never accepted the truth behind them, until now.

Fate wasn't all giving, fate didn't hand her destiny without a catch; fate made sure she paid for her betrayal, and fate got her good.

She turns her face into all sorts of angles but the scars will never leave her. She merely looks at herself dissatisfied with what she's become and how she's obtained it. She observes her morality and goodness with the three simple lines that scrape her once beautiful face.

She grimaces, but it always looks like she grimaces. It always looks like she was unhappy, but maybe the permanent tugging of her smile symbolizes how Emily will never truly be happy...

How she hides her anger and pain with love, how her facade has fooled everyone. How she hates herself every day for hurting her best friend.

How she despises Sam for making her choose. How she loves him with all her heart. How she feels ugly every time when her flawlessly skinned and perfectly sculpted, yet heartbroken cousin steps in the house.

Leah doesn't even acknowledge Emily's appearance, and this troubles her.

A broken face, for a broken heart. Though no one could see Leah's pain, she knew it was far worse than her own.

Of course, she detests the stares in the Supermarkets when she buys eggs for her prized muffins, she hates when children cry at the sight of her, as if she was ugly like a monster.

Maybe she was a monster. After all, best friends didn't steal their friends boyfriend. Best friends never chose a man over the girl they've loved since they were one.

What will her own children think of her? After all, they will exist. That's the whole reason why Sam is even with her, right now. That's her duty to the tribe.

She broke her best friends heart for the simple duty of procreation; she betrayed her best friend in the worst way possible, just so tribal blood can run through their blood, royally and respectfully. How can she ever justify that?

How could she ever feel loved, knowing her cousin was chosen? How could she not feel second best? How could she not feel inferior?

She had always been smaller, Leah was always better. But now she owns her not only in beauty, but in morals. Leah would have never betrayed Emily, Leah would have continued fighting even if it ripped her soul in two.

Leah would have chosen Emily; but Emily had chose Sam. Emily had chose a man who she hadn't even known. Emily had chosen a man who told her he loved her, before even learning her last name. Emily had trusted a man over her own sister.

And the scars she bears today, will always represent her choice. Her scars will show how sick and disgusting the world she lives in today; it will show selfishness and cruelty. The scars will forever tell a story —about how a woman betrayed her family.

And the story will be told to children, but it will be an example of what _not_ to do. It was display how forgetting what you are, and losing all your family ties leads to nothingness and sorrow. It shows that the treachery had not only lead to her ugliness, but her abolishment in her own family.

Sure, her family had forgave her. But her own mother had expressed more than once of her disgust for this situation. She loved her daughter plenty, but disguised her unhappiness with her daughters choice in men, by simply scowling and shaking her head disapprovingly whenever she came to visit.

Her own aunt had disowned her, before learning of the truth. And even then, her arms were never opened as it was before. Emily was able to walk in the Clearwater residence without knocking, but now, she hasn't step foot there.

Her own uncle, Harry — though knowledgeable of the imprint at the time, told her that he'd choose his flesh and blood over her any day, no matter the circumstance. And Emily had taken it. That was ten minutes before he died, and Emily had been forever guilty.

Her scars will also symbolize justice, for she believed was her punishment. Her scars will stick with her until she dies, no matter the consequence.

And though she wishes and prays for sympathy, she will never get it even from a wanderer. Not because they were unsettling, but because — even with the lack of knowledge in Quileute mythology, it is obvious to any stranger that those scars resemble much more than a bear attack.

It is obvious, from the ways that her eyes dart back in forth that this woman was not a victim, but a murderer. There was a sixth sense seeping into each and everyone's souls whenever they looked into the eyes of Emily Young; there was a sense of understanding, comprehension of this woman's innocence or morals. You didn't have to know the detials, you just did.

And it was easy to not feel sorry for her.


End file.
